


Colds and Punishments

by NeverHadThePlot



Series: Pick me up and piece me together [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Dom Phil Coulson, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punishment, Sick Clint Barton, Sub Clint Barton, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverHadThePlot/pseuds/NeverHadThePlot
Summary: Clint refuses to follow Phil's orders. Phil punishes him accordingly.The following day Clint wakes up feeling sick. Phil looks after him.





	Colds and Punishments

“Oh, hey Jasper.” Phil said as he opened the door.

“Hey Phil, do you mind if I watch the game with you tonight, the wife’s got a bunch of friends over.” He held the six pack in his hand up to show him.

Phil grinned, “Sure. But would you mind staying here for a few minutes- I was just punishing Clint.”

Jasper smirked as he stepped into the hallway and shrugged out of his jacket, “Oh yeah? What did the little punk do this time?”

Phil rolled his eyes, “It’s more about what he didn’t do.”

Jasper laughed, “I don’t know why you put up with him Phil.”

“Believe it or not, he’s actually usually very well behaved. He only acts out when somethings bothering him, but then he won’t tell me what’s wrong.” Phil frowned and shook his head, “I’ll be back in two minutes.”

Phil walked back into the living room where he had Clint naked and bound in the ‘naughty’ corner. Clint didn’t look up when he came back into the room, but his entire frame stiffened. Phil sighed. “Stand up Clint.”

Slowly he did so, finding it more difficult with his wrists bound behind his back. Phil picked up the underwear folded on top of Clint’s discarded clothes and helped him step into them, covering up his half-hard dick and the vibrator buried in his ass. “Now, Jasper is here to watch the game with me. Are you going to tell me why you ignored my orders, threw a temper tantrum and swore at me?” Clint glared resolutely at the floor and said nothing. “Fine. You will stay in this corner, as planned, until you tell me or I decide otherwise. You are not to talk. You are not to move. You are not to watch the television. Now, kneel and face the wall again.” Clint allowed himself to be pushed back down to the floor, though his muscles remained tense. Phil gave him a blast of the vibrator; Clint stifled a moan, tucking his chin into his chest. (Phil had learned quickly in their relationship that the best way to punish Clint was with sexual frustration. Clint could take any amount of pain, but being denied the ability to come was the thing that truly frustrated him.) He ran a hand through Clint’s hair comfortingly, then went to collect his friend.

“Sorry about that Jas.”

“Hey, not a problem, gotta do what you gotta do, right?” Jasper grinned at him openly.

“If you wouldn’t mind, just ignore him?” Phil asked quietly as they walked towards the couch together.

“Sure.”

He cracked open a beer and handed it to Phil, then opened his own as Phil scanned the channels for the football game. “So, how’re the new recruits coming on?” Sitwell asked Phil, whose turn it was to watch over their training.

“Good, for the most part. Sanders is a bit big for his own boots.”

“Yeah, I noticed, that guy has an entitlement problem.” Over in the corner, Clint shifted his weight slightly. 

“You could say that. He’s not as good as he thinks he is, but he is good. Someone just needs to knock his ego down a few pegs.”

“I’m sure there are a couple of people willing to do that.”

Phil chuckled, “I’m sure there are. We’ll see-” he caught Clint shifting his weight in the corner again. “Clint.” He said, his voice full of authoritative warning. The sub froze in place and ducked his head even further.

Jasper smirked, but otherwise ignored the exchange, “We could always stick Romanov on him.”

“We want to knock his ego, not traumatise the guy.” They both laughed at that, then focused as the match kicked off.

Over in the corner Clint was mentally kicking himself. Why didn’t he just do as Phil asked and wash the fucking dishes. It’s not like it’s a particularly hard task to comply with. It wasn’t Phil’s fault Clint was tired and cranky and fed-up of the subs are second class citizens bullshit he had to deal with at work. And now he was stuck facing the fucking wall with a fucking vibrating butt plug in his ass which Phil kept setting off even though they had company and he had to work that much harder not to moan. All he’d wanted to do tonight was cuddle up to Phil on the sofa. He’d ruined any possibility of that when he told him to fuck off.

Clint shifted his position again, closing his eyes to fight the tears. God he was so tired.

Phil left him there until half way through the game. He heard Jasper head to the bathroom and felt his dom come up behind him. He slid a hand into Clint’s hair, scratching lightly. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now, Little Bird? Because this isn’t like you. You don’t usually argue with me, or swear at me.” His voice was full of concern.

Clint tilted his head into Phil’s hand, “I’m sorry Sir.” He said in a small voice. “I- I just had a hard day, and I’m tired. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just wanted to relax for a bit. I’m sorry.” 

Phil sighed and gently pulled him to his feet, turning him around to face him, “Clint, why didn’t you just say so? We agreed when we first started dating that if you had a problem with an order to tell me so we could discuss it. I’m not unreasonable. Instead you got angry, and made me angry.”

Clint ducked his head and spoke to the floor, “I know. I’m sorry, I really am. I just. I can’t help it when I get like that. I’m used to people pushing me around, just because they can, and not having any choice in the matter whatsoever. And I know, I know you’re not like that Phil, I just, it all comes back sometimes.”

Phil tilted Clint’s head up to look in his eyes, which were swimming with unshed tears. He placed a soft kiss to his lips then gathered him into his arms. “I understand, Little Bird. I know it’s hard, but I need you to try to speak to me next time. Okay?”

Clint sniffed and nodded against his chest. “Good Boy.” He pressed a kiss to his temple, then pulled away to untie his hands, “Now, why don’t you go and take care of this,” He cupped his erection, trapped between them, “take the plug out too, then come back and sit by my feet?”

“What about the dishes?”

“They’ll keep until tomorrow Sweetheart.” Clint nodded, stole a kiss, then walked towards the bathroom as Jasper came out.

“Problem sorted?” He asked Phil cheerfully, reclaiming his seat.

Phil rolled his eyes, “Honestly, if he wasn’t so stubborn he’d have been out of that corner an hour ago.”

Jasper chuckled, “What was his problem?”

“He’s just tired and cranky. He said he had a hard day, though I don’t know what he’s talking about. We’ve been at base the last few days.”

“Maybe he pushed himself too hard training.”

“Maybe.” 

Clint came back into the room dressed in loose sweats, his hair still damp from his shower. He settled himself between Phil’s feet, wrapping an arm around his calf and resting his head against his knee. Phil slid a hand into his hair, petting him absently as he conversed with Jasper and they watched the game.

Jasper rose from his seat a few hours later, having finished the game they’d moved onto an episode of Storage Hunters, “I should go home. Make sure it’s still standing.”

Phil grinned and nudged Clint gently with his toes to get him to move. Clint’s head lolled to the side, his breathing coming slow and even, his face slack in sleep. “Huh. I guess he was tired.” Phil murmured, surprised. Clint never slept in a room with anyone but Phil and Tasha in it.

“Yeah, at least you only stuck him in the corner. Not the most exhausting punishment.” Jasper smirked.

Phil rolled his eyes and shook Clint’s shoulder. He startled awake, springing to his feet. “Easy Clint.” Phil held his palms up, “You fell asleep.” 

Clint relaxed from his fighting stance and ran a hand over his face, “Sorry.”

Jasper grinned, “Don’t worry about it, I’m heading home now anyway. See you tomorrow Hawkeye.”

“Yeah, see you Jasper.” Clint gave him half a smile and watched as he moved towards the door with Phil before he flopped back down onto the couch. 

He heard the door shut but didn’t stir from the half doze he’d fallen into until he heard, “C’mon you, let’s go to bed.” And felt strong hands pulling him to his feet, wrapping around his waist and leading him to their bedroom.

Phil stripped him efficiently, with very little help from Clint. Carefully removed his hearing aids and tucked him into bed. Before climbing into his own side and pulling the already mostly asleep archer into his arms. 

…

Clint jolted awake and sneezed. Disorientated, he glanced around the room, everything seemed kind of hazy, out of focus. Another sneeze rocketed through him and he shivered violently, goosebumps crawling up his bare arms. He groaned and collapsed back into the pillows, rolling over to bury his face into Phil’s side. He tried to breathe in the smell of Phil’s skin to soothe his fog addled mind only to realise that he couldn’t breathe through his nose.

Phil moved then, wrapping his arms around his archer and pulling him close sleepily. He kissed Clint’s temple, rubbing his thumbs against his stomach and shoulder where his hands were resting. Clint tried to ignore the pressure headache he knew was building behind his eyes and burrowed into Phil’s warmth.

With another kiss to Clint’s temple Phil pulled away and went into the bathroom. Clint thought about moving, but his fog addled brain decided burrowing back down into the warmth Phil had left behind was a much better idea. He drifted to sleep again.

Phil came out of the shower and stared at Clint in the bed, frowning. Clint would usually be up and cooking breakfast by now. What on earth had he done yesterday that had made him this exhausted, Phil wondered. 

He quickly dressed with his usual precision and still Clint didn’t stir so Phil shook his shoulder softly and handed him his hearing aids. Clint slid them in and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Come on Clint, we’re going to be late.” He said.

“Kay.” Clint sighed sliding to his feet. Blood rushed to his head and he swayed on his feet.

“Whoa.” Phil caught him and carefully helped him sit on the edge of the bed, “Are you okay Clint?”

“M fine.” Clint mumbled, struggling to sit up on his own.

Phil frowned and held a hand to his forehead. It was a tad too warm, “You are not fine,” Phil said sternly as another sneeze rocketed through him.

“I am, honestly.” Clint pushed weakly at Phil’s hand and tried to stand up again.

“No you’re not. You’re sick Clint. Get back into bed.” Phil held a hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing and gave him a light shove so that he fell back against the cushions.

“M not sick. I don’t get sick.” Clint struggled to get up again.

“Clint, you are sick. You will stay in this bed until you feel better.” Phil ordered, thinking that this, at least, explained his tired and cranky behaviour the previous night.

“I don’t wanna.” Clint complained even as he rolled over and snuggled into the pillows.

“Get some rest Clint, I’ll come back and check on you at lunch time, okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Clint agreed as his breathing evened out again and he fell back to sleep. Phil smiled and pulled the quilt back up around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his too warm forehead.

He knocked on Mrs Johnson’s door after locking up the apartment. The door opened slowly and she peered around the edge. “Phil? Are you okay?”

“I am, Mrs Johnson, thank you. But Clint is coming down with the flu. I wondered if you might do me a favour and look in on him in a couple of hours? I’ve left him asleep, there’s water on the bedside table, but I’d appreciate it if you could check to see if he’s okay? I should be back around one myself, but I have to go to work.”

“Of course I will, Phil, you know I love your boy.” She said smiling.

Phil blew out a breath. “Thank you Mrs Johnson. You have our spare key, please call if there are any problems.”

“Of course Phil. Go on, you’ll be late. I’ll keep an eye on Clint.” She kissed him on the cheek before shoving him towards the elevator.

…

“No Barton today?” Sitwell asked Phil as he walked into the building, “what, are you still punishing him?”

Phil huffed, “No, he’s come down with the flu. Think that might explain last night. I left him in bed.”

“Aw see now I bet you feel guilty for making him sit in the corner for so long.” Jasper teased.

“Oh no, it’s his own fault for not telling me the truth.”

“If you say so.” Jasper shrugged, grinning.

…

Phil came home to find dirty tissues strewn all over the bed and the floor, empty glasses of orange juice and water and coffee lining the bed side table and Clint flat out asleep with half his body covered by the quilt and the other half dangling off the edge of the bed. He huffed out a laugh as he took off his jacket and made his way into the room.

He ran a hand through Clint’s sweaty hair and the sub stirred. “Phil?” he croaked.

“Hey there Little Bird. How are you feeling?” He asked gently. Clint’s only response was to groan. “That good huh? Would some soup help?”

“Yes,” a cough raked through him and he sat up abruptly, before collapsing back down again, “Please sir.”

“Aww, my poor baby.” Phil murmured, stroking his hair again before collecting the empty glasses and walking towards the kitchen.

Phil quickly cleared the mess around the bed as the soup was warming, then brought it in on a tray. He helped Clint to sit up against the pillows and carefully handfed him soup until he was full and slowly drifting to sleep again.

“Lie down baby,” Phil ordered softly. He pulled the quilt up to Clint’s chin and kissed his forehead. Clint reached out to grab his wrist, mumbling “Stay.”

“For a little while.” Phil agreed, “But then I have to go back to work.”

Clint whined a protest, trying to drag his heavy eyelids back to look at him. “I’m going to see if I can escape a little earlier than usual today, okay baby?”

Clint pouted, but nodded and cuddled Phil’s arm to his chest. Its owner could only look on in bemusement.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Loath as I am to admit it, I am not Stan Lee, therefore I do not own Phil or Clint.


End file.
